Storm
by FoolForYou
Summary: Draco was furious. His magic fused with his overwhelming emotions and radiated off him, bathing him in a strange, dark light. The air stilled. Draco breathed in. It was magic. In its purest form. It was Magyck of the Ancients. DM/HG M eventually R/R
1. Breathe

**Author's Note**

**Disclaimer:**** Im not JK Rowling. I know, I was shocked too. I don't own the wonderful world of Harry Potter - I merely play in it - or any of the characters. Cept for Draco. He's mine. He just doesn't know it yet. =]**

**Ok, well here we go...**

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_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

He stared down at the lifeless body lying before him.

_No!_

This wasn't real. It wasn't true. It couldn't be happening.

_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

He reached a quivering hand forward and brushed her hair away from her pale, cold face.

_No!_

'How precious. You were always every bit your mother's boy Draco. You know, she saw you as nothing short of perfect.' Lucius' cold, mocking voice rang out from across the room.

_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

'But of course, I know better. You're a disgrace! You know that? You bring nothing but shame to me and the Malfoy name.

_No!_

_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

'You're weak. You're pathetic. Just like her.'

'No!' Draco shouted. He turned abruptly to face his father, his rage and grief rolling off him in waves. Lucius merely glanced at the boy, nay, man standing before him and laughed mockingly.  
'So, tell me, _son_,' Lucius spat the word, 'what exactly do you intend do? Avenge her? Kill me? Or perhaps you'll throw a tantrum, like you always did as a child. You know, they never ceased to amuse me and the Dark Lord knows I need amusing now, after the fiasco that was your mother.'

_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

'I will avenge her.' Draco whispered quietly, though it was just loud enough for his father to hear.  
Lucius laughed maniacally.  
'How exactly do you plan to do that Draco? You are wandless, and I'm afraid I won't wait for you to run downstairs and retrieve it. I am physically stronger and better than you so it's glaringly obvious who will win if you so choose to resort to _Muggle _methods. But of course, you won't avenge your pathetic excuse for a mother will you? I doubt you actually have it in you. You're pathetic. Weak. A disgrace. _You are not a Malfoy Draco._ _I am ashamed to call you my son.'_

'No!' Draco repeated. He glared at his father. Lucius stared at his son. He could feel it now, the Magyck that permeated the air in his study. He glanced at the source and almost stepped back in fear.

Draco was furious. His magic fused with his overwhelming emotions and radiated off him, bathing him in a strange, dark light.

The air stilled.  
Draco breathed in.

It was magic. In its purest form.

It was Magyck of the Ancients.

And Lucius knew it. He envied it. It was what he had been striving for; he had searched and sought after it, spending time and ridiculous amounts of money in vain attempts to find out more. He suspected that it was what made Voldemort so powerful and he wanted it.  
But he also knew of its danger.

He stepped back.

Draco stepped forward.

He closed his eyes, revelling in his new found power. It was intense, and unlike anything he had ever felt before. He could sense his father, even though he couldn't actually see him. He could feel his father's fear and hear his frantic heartbeat. Draco let loose a laugh.

Lucius stared as his son laughed. It was a cold, mocking laughter, devoid of any real humour.

He stepped back.

Draco was surrounded by the black glow which constantly pulsated and moved. His shoulder-length pale, blond hair, so much like Lucius' own, floated above his head, moved by an invisible force. The air around him seemed to crackle with Magyck and Lucius could actually see dark sparks shooting off Draco.  
He opened his eyes and Lucius stepped back once again in shock.  
The pale, startling grey orbs that belonged to his son were now a stormy glowing black. It seemed to be the only source of light in the room, aside from the bright moonlight currently shining upon his son.

Draco stepped forward.

Abruptly, he turned away from his father and moved towards the body of his mother. The black glow seemed to fade, as Draco knelt over Narcissa. Closing his eyes once more, Draco sensed what he should do. Stretching his hand forward, he sent forth a black jet of energy in the direction of his mother for a brief second. It was all that was needed. Draco stepped back and looked. His mother lay on the cold marble floor as before. However, as father and son looked on, a bright, silver light surrounded her, obscuring her body from view. After a few moments, the light faded, leaving behind a transformed Narcissa. Her beautiful face was now clear, all worry lines and scars gone, the dark shadows underneath her eyes removed. Her frail and thin body, which was previously bruised and bloodied due to effects of the Crucio, was restored and her broken bones healed. What Draco's Magyck had not done however, was bring her back to life. Such a thing was not possible and Draco knew it. He hadn't dared hope for it but worked on something more achievable. His mother was now back to her former beauty, her face and body like it was at her prime, before DeathEaters, before the Dark Lord and before her son had been Marked.

It was Draco's final gift.

He would not let her die in shame, in vain. She had resisted and fought with Lucius upon hearing of Draco's mission and pleaded for her son. She would not have him follow his father and doom himself to a life of fear and misery. And for that, for simply protecting her son, she had died. It was his own father that had cast the Avada Kedrava upon her tortured body.

And Draco had seen it all.

Breathing a sigh, Draco turned his attention to his father who stood awestruck. This was power that Lucius had never seen before, and it scared him. The black glow had returned, darker and stronger than ever, and he could feel it emanating off his son, threatening to overpower him.

He stepped back again, only to find his back pressed against a hard wall.

'Father...'

Draco whispered quietly, his voice was a deadly monotone, completely devoid of any emotion.  
Lucius looked at his son. Draco's face was blank, an expressionless mask. The only indication to what Draco was feeling was the ominous black glow, which had increased in power and size and would at times release pulses of energy.

'Father... dearest father...'  
'Look at me. Are you not proud? I am strong Father. So, so strong. Are you not pleased?' Draco asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Understanding dawned on Lucius' face. He was using his teachings against him.

'_A Malfoy does not show emotions Draco. Not ever. They can be used against you. Do not let your enemy win because of your failure to do something as simple as conceal your anger!' _

He glanced at his son's expressionless face.

'_You must plan Draco. A Malfoy does not act rashly. He plots. He thinks. He rationalises. He never, ever, acts on impulse. Recklessness leads to mistakes. And your mistakes lead to your downfall. _

Draco took calm, deliberate steps towards his father_. _

'_Draco. Know your enemy. Learn his strengths, and his weaknesses. What he treasures, what he despises. Who he holds dear, who mean the most. Do not live in ignorance! Use that knowledge my son. Manipulation is so much better than trust.' _

Lucius was cornered.

'Poor Father. Look at you, hiding in the corner, like a scared little boy. Who is weak now Father? Who is stronger?'

Lucius straightened. He would not give his son the satisfaction of seeing him trembling and shaking, fearing for his life.

'What are you going to do Father? You are weak. Pathetic. A disgrace to the Malfoy name. Look at you, cowering in the corner, before your own son!'

Lucius could feel his anger growing. He looked down and noticed that he was still holding his wand. Although it was nothing compared to the power that Draco held, it gave him a sense of power.

'Watch yourself my son. It would do you good to remember who I am. As much as it pains me to say it, you are my son. And you will act like it!' Lucius raged and marched forward. At his words, Draco stopped walking and bowed his head. The black glow receded within him suddenly and Lucius drew himself to his full height, confident now that Draco's Magyck was temporary.  
'Good. I see that you still lack proper respect for your father. But don't worry. I shall see that you give respect where respect is due.' Lucius proclaimed as he felt his anger threatening to overflow.  
Draco nodded submissively.  
'Forgive me Father. I was wrong'  
'You have not learned Draco. Perhaps this will help..._Crucio_!' Lucius screamed, pushing all his anger behind it. A blinding white light shot out of his wand and flew towards Draco.  
And disappeared.

Draco laughed.

Stunned, Lucius reeled. He withdrew and, calling forth all his rage, screamed '_Crucio_' again. A stronger, more intense brightness shot out only to disappear a moment after.  
'Care to try again Father?'  
Lucius paled. It had been a trick.  
The dark, foreboding glow returned just as suddenly as it disappeared, stronger and larger than ever before. It swathed Draco, obscuring everything from his shoulders downwards.

Draco stepped forward again.

In his hand, floated two bright shining orbs, one of which was slightly smaller than the other. Wordlessly, he sent one towards his father. Lucius had suspected that they were his deflected Unforgivables and so had conjured up the strongest protection spell he knew. It was not enough however, and suddenly he was hit by agonising, severe pain.  
He screamed.  
Lucius writhed and twisted in agony for a few, quick seconds before Draco called the spell back. He lay panting, gasping for breath on the cold floor.  
'Just so you know Father, that was your own spell. I did not add to it, as you suspect. _I do not wish to stoop to your level._'  
Moving closer, Draco knelt down next to his father and gently whispered into his ear.

'You never answered me, father dearest, _who is stronger now?_'

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Author's Note**

**Ta-Da!**

**Ok, how was that guys? First Fic, did ya like it? Should I continue? **

**Oh and, is it just me, or does Draco pull off the whole Dark/Independent thing better? Im not talking about silly DeathEater Draco, but immensely strong, powerful Not-Quite-Evil-Not-Quite-Good Draco. No? Just me. Ok.**

**Reviews please dears, I wanna know if I should carry on writing this or not.**

**=]**


	2. Think

**Author's Note**

**I love you guys. I siriusly do. Your reviews have made me rather happy. Sad no? Ok, now I know its all about Draco right now but can ya blame me? Don't answer that. Hermione shall come in later, I just wanna get the background info for Draco first okie?  
**

**Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Harry Potter or anything/anyone in his world. JK Rowling does. Lucky bitch.**

**Enjoy..**.

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_She laughed. It was a bright, carefree laugh, which lit up her whole face and illuminated her eyes. Suddenly, she turned away from him and ran off into the surrounding darkness. Panicking, he ran after her, stumbling on unseen objects. He ignored these and focused on the girl in front of him. He wasn't running now, he was gliding, moving swiftly across the inky blackness. The only source of light came from the still-running figure in front of him. He raced on but he couldn't catch her. Every time she was within reaching distance, she would spurt ahead, leaving him alone. Desperation clung to him now and suddenly he could feel something heavy pressing on his chest. It was a strange, fearsome pressure that enveloped the two of them. All of a sudden, they were once again running, all teasing and playfulness gone. They were running for their lives. The foreboding pressure chased after them, threatening to overcome them both and he pushed himself ahead. To his horror, the girl suddenly fell back. He turned around in shock and saw that she was now standing absolutely still, facing the dark fog, staring directly into it. She seemed entranced, and he called to her, warning her. He could only make out her head and shoulders through the dark, black mist. She turned her head to face him and stared with empty, haunted eyes. The silver flash that lightened her face was now gone, replaced by a dull grey sheen. Her vibrant, soft flowing hair was now suddenly limp and it hung in loose strands around her thin face. She was still beautiful, that was undeniable; but whereas before it was a beauty of something content and full of life, it was now a beauty that belonged to a statue, something unreal, not quite alive. With pleading silver eyes she looked at him, imploring him to help her. He reached forward, but found, to his fright, that he could not move. The inky, smothering blackness held him in his place. He struggled; he twisted and writhed and punched and fought for his freedom but still could not escape. He let out a frustrated, furious screamed and then, much to his surprise, it was gone. The melancholy darkness left him and focused entirely on the girl. It surrounded her and enveloped her, obstructing still more of her from his view. He struggled repeatedly, but found that once again he could not escape. It was his fear. It was his overwhelming, growing, gnawing fear. He didn't know how he knew, but that didn't matter. It held him prisoner and try as he might; it simply refused to set him free. He panicked then, and fought viciously, screaming, raging and hitting nothing in particular. Overwhelming panic and anxiety took control. The girl continued to stare on helplessly, all the time pleading, begging for his aid as the dark force grew around her relentlessly. He stared on in shock as the fog around the girl increased and expanded, slowly engulfing the girl and consuming her. He screamed and with a mighty effort, set himself free. But it was too late. The girl was gone. _

Draco awoke, breathing hard. It was a dream. He released a sigh and ran a sweaty, shaking hand through his hair. Groaning, he reached for his wand and muttered '_Tempus_'. It was 4 in the morning. He had had 3 hours of sleep that night, which was a new record for him. He had had trouble sleeping ever since -  
Draco winced. He couldn't bring himself to think about that day, not even for a moment. For that meant acknowledging what had happened and _that_ meant accepting it as something he couldn't change. It was unhealthy, Draco knew, to refuse to accept it, but in all honesty, he didn't really care. He _needed_ to hold onto it, he couldn't, _wouldn't_ forget her.

Narcissa and Draco had never been that close when he was younger and he regretted that so much now. He had worshipped his father and looked up to him, choosing to follow his examples. He treated others just as Lucius did and willingly adopted his father's ideas and attitudes. Granted, he had never been given a chance to form his own ideas so logically it made perfect sense that Draco would accept what he was taught. However, he had deliberately ignored his mother as a child; after all, the woman was there to make the Malfoy male look good was she not? As long as she did her job of ensuring her son had enough sweets and other treats then there really was no need to engage in deep, emotional conversations with her. It really wasn't worth his time, Draco had foolishly decided. Why spend hours in uncomfortable silence when he could be off having fun with his friends?

That attitude had changed however, one summer when Draco was 15. He had come home from Hogwarts that summer to a very ill had initially thought nothing off it, and trusted that their family physician would take care of her as he always had. It seemed that Narcissa was the one most prone to sudden bouts of illness in the Malfoy household, and it had never bothered him that much. She recovered within aweek anyways and would resume her role as a Malfoy lady as if nothing had ever happened.

Although Draco did notice that occasionally, she would look at him in the strangest of ways.

She would sigh; mutter 'My Dragon' and reach out as if to touch him but would always draw back her hand before walking off, her face giving away nothing.  
His mother's sudden bouts of weakness and ill health grew more frequent as Draco neared his sixteenth birthday, but, as always, he hadn't worried. He had never even bothered to find out the causes of her ailments. That summer was no different. Her mother took ill quite suddenly before Draco had even spent a week at the Manor. It wasn't until Narcissa had failed to recover within a week that he began to grow concerned.

_*Flashback*  
_

_Draco knocked nervously on the door to his parent's chamber.  
'Mother?'  
Hearing no reply, he cautiously entered the room. It was opulently decorated in deep, dark greens and rich, warm ebony. The heavy emerald coloured drapes were drawn aside to let in the morning sun. His mother lay resting on the grand four-poster bed, underneath layers upon layers of thick warm blankets. Her face was drawn in and deathly pale and Draco could make out faint scratches and scars running down the side of her cheeks and thin arms. Tentatively, he walked over to her bedside._

_'Mother?'_

_His mother stirred, opened her eyes and smiled. Draco's heart immediately calmed. It had started to race and palpitate randomly out of fear for her as soon as he had entered the room. But if she could smile, Draco assumed, she must be fine._

_'My Dragon...'_

_'Mother, please, that grew old years ago' Draco admonished. His mother merely smiled._

_'Dragon that will never grow old...not if I can help it...' she smirked. Draco scowled but was inwardly pleased. It was a relief to have the smart, witty mother that he had grown to know._

_'Mother what happened?' Her smile instantly disappeared._

_'Nothing for you to worry about son, Im fine. More importantly, how was your year at Hogwarts? Did you receive any assignments for the holidays dear? How is Professor Snape? We haven't seen much of him lately, such a shame. Perhaps we should invite him round, he would like that wouldn't he? I think it's about time you got to know your godfather Draco. I shall send him an owl, perhaps he can stay for - '_

_'Mother.'_

_'Yes dear?'_

_'You are avoiding the question. What happened? This is not some small trivial sickness Mother, I am not blind, I can see that this, ailment, is something more serious. Tell me.' He stated. He hated not knowing something. After all, knowledge is power._

_'So strong. So commanding. So much like your father...'_

_Draco beamed._

_'But son, my Dragon, listen to me...'_

_Draco was suddenly aware of the stifling stillness that hung in the room. Shifting uncomfortably, he leant forward, towards his mother. He sensed that he was about to receive some damn good advice. This in itself was not unusual, his father often liked to preach to his son and educate him on what makes a true Malfoy, what_ was_ unusual was the fact that it was his mother who was about to teach Draco something. As much as Draco cared for and respected his mother, he seriously doubted whether she had any worthwhile advice to give him, aside from which of the many ballrooms to use and when._

_'You look up to him my son.' It was a statement, not a question. Draco merely nodded._

_'So you should, your father is a great man.'_

_'You worship him.' At this Draco visibly frowned. He did not like the idea of worshipping and bowing to anyone let alone his father. He was a Malfoy, was  
he not?_

_'But Dragon, there comes a time when every man must think for himself. A Malfoy does not accept supposed truths unless he knows them to be absolutely and undeniably true. A Malfoy thinks. He questions and rationalises and searches for answers. If he is satisfied with what he has learned, he will then, and only then, accept. But if what he has learnt is clearly lacking, then a Malfoy will refuse. He will turn away, no matter how hard and make his own decisions and follow his own truths.'_

_' My Dragon, please, think.'_

_Draco was stunned. He was speechless and quickly found that that was not a pleasant experience. He, quite simply, did not expect such words of wisdom to flow from his mother. His father, of course, had said similar things 'A Malfoy never succumbs to anyone' and such but Draco had never, ever, been taught to simply think. For himself. What on earth had she meant by that?_

_Draco turned to his mother to ask precisely that, only to find that she had fallen asleep. Silently, he rose from the armchair, and, in a spontaneous act of affection, placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. Draco walked away. _

_*End Flashback*_

Draco rose from his bed and wandered out of his room. His bare feet made no noise on the plush carpet in the hallways as he ambled towards the kitchen.  
He flinched as he passed the study that belonged to his father. It still held too many painful memories for him and he felt that he could not enter there again, at least, while Lucius was still around.  
Walking onwards, he looked neither to his left or right but instead descended down the marble stairs and walked towards the dark kitchens. Mechanically, he walked to the larder and reached for the top shelf.  
He picked up a bottle at random and nodded in satisfaction as he read the label. A loud high-pitched scream came from somewhere beneath his feet nearly caused Draco to drop the bottle.

Furious, he marched in the direction of the scream as the dark aura appeared once more around his person. Stalking down the stairs, he shot his free hand towards the dungeon door and muttered '_Silencio_'.

Draco looked down into the cell.

His father, or rather, the shell of his father lay on the floor, muttering in his sleep.  
Lucius' spirit had been completely broken after his humiliating defeat at the hands of his teenage son and Draco was expecting an escort of Aurors in a few hours to come and fetch him.

Deciding his father was not worth getting angry over, he walked slowly back to his room, the black glow fading as his anger dissipated.

It returned however, when he remembered the bottle in his hands and why he needed it. Sighing heavily and refusing to let tears fall, Draco drank the contents of the bottle in one go.

He immediately fell into a Dreamless Sleep, shrouded by the dark, comforting glow.

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**Author's Notes  
**

**Is 'Tempus' a real spell? If not, then I think Ive stolen that from somewhere. So credit where credits due - tis not mine.  
And you may be wondering about the whole 'Magyck of the Ancients' thing + dark floating cloud thingy, so no worries, all shall be revealed in due time. Bear with me, Im kinda plotting this out as I go along.**

**Also any guesses why Narcissa's all ill of a sudden? Think scratches...  
**

**PS - Not really sure when to introduce Herm. as I kinda wanna focus on Draco for a tad k? No? Hm. Well thats a problem.**

**Read and Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hello!

Am sorry for not updating in ages, personal things happening in my life kinda took priority tbh, but I'm back baby!  
And rest assured I shall be updating as quickly as my life will let me, I haven't forgotten about this – its been lurking around in my head somewhere. :]

Point of this rather annoying AN is just to tell you all that I was just looking back over what little I've done and I've come to the conclusion that its absolute shit, don't ya think? So, I shall be editing and rewriting and rephrasing and adding and all sorts of lovely –ing words. =]

So just bear with me and give me a couple of days and then Storm will be űber super special awesome ok?

Thanks! 3


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